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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 244/247
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'
Pray
,
sir
,
'
returned
Mrs.
Sparsit
,
'
do
not
bite
my
nose
off
.
'
'
Bite
your
nose
off
,
ma'am
?
'
repeated
Mr.
Bounderby
.
'
Your
nose
!
'
meaning
,
as
Mrs.
Sparsit
conceived
,
that
it
was
too
developed
a
nose
for
the
purpose
.
After
which
offensive
implication
,
he
cut
himself
a
crust
of
bread
,
and
threw
the
knife
down
with
a
noise
.
Mrs.
Sparsit
took
her
foot
out
of
her
stirrup
,
and
said
,
'
Mr.
Bounderby
,
sir
!
'
'
Well
,
ma'am
?
'
retorted
Mr.
Bounderby
.
'
What
are
you
staring
at
?
'
'
May
I
ask
,
sir
,
'
said
Mrs.
Sparsit
,
'
have
you
been
ruffled
this
morning
?
'
'
Yes
,
ma'am
.
'
'
May
I
inquire
,
sir
,
'
pursued
the
injured
woman
,
'
whether
I
am
the
unfortunate
cause
of
your
having
lost
your
temper
?
'
'
Now
,
I
'll
tell
you
what
,
ma'am
,
'
said
Bounderby
,
'
I
am
not
come
here
to
be
bullied
.
A
female
may
be
highly
connected
,
but
she
ca
n't
be
permitted
to
bother
and
badger
a
man
in
my
position
,
and
I
am
not
going
to
put
up
with
it
.
'
(
Mr.
Bounderby
felt
it
necessary
to
get
on
:
foreseeing
that
if
he
allowed
of
details
,
he
would
be
beaten
.
)
Mrs.
Sparsit
first
elevated
,
then
knitted
,
her
Coriolanian
eyebrows
;
gathered
up
her
work
into
its
proper
basket
;
and
rose
.
